


I Feel Safe With You

by mattzerella_sticks



Series: Season 13 Inspired [17]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe Castiel briefly mentioned, Angst & Humor & Fluff, Bunker, Coda to 13x22, Comforting Castiel, Comforting Dean Winchester, Communication, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dean Cave, Dean and Cas are officially/un-officially Jack's Dads, Developing Relationship, Embarrassed Dean Winchester, Exodus - Freeform, Family, Feelings, Flustered Castiel, Flustered Dean Winchester, Jack Needs a Hug, M/M, Mourning, Playing House, Talk about the Apocalypse World, What happened there, What will happen now, heart to heart, late-night conversations, movies - Freeform, self-deprecating Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 20:25:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14626398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattzerella_sticks/pseuds/mattzerella_sticks
Summary: Coda to 13x22 "Exodus"With nearly everyone back at the Bunker, it might be hard to find some alone time. However, Dean and Cas manage to find just that, and talk about a few things that need to be discussed. Will they say what needs to be said? Or do some things even need to be said? Sometimes the strongest things are those that are left unspoken.





	I Feel Safe With You

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Usually I get these out just as Friday rolls around at 12 AM. But unfortunately baseball decided to be a little bitch and interrupt my Supernatural viewing time... AGAIN!
> 
> I also haven't watched the episode yet (whoops) but from what I've seen on Wikipedia and on Tumblr, I managed to piece a few things together, and have created this!
> 
> So please, enjoy!

            “I figured you might be here.”

            Dean cranes his head over the back of the chair, smiling at Cas from where he stands in the doorway. The television is the only source of light, highlighting his profile. Dean beckons Cas further in, the angel closing the door behind him. He heads towards the only other seat in Dean’s Cave, perching on the edge of it. Luckily, Dean had already muted the show he was watching, preferring the images to flash on-screen – his mind whirling with too many thoughts to really follow any storyline.

            “How’s everybody settling in?” Dean asks.

            “Fine,” Cas says, “We’ve filled two entire wings of the Bunker… could have used your help with all the sheets and everything.”

            “It was getting to be too much,” Dean admitted, turning away, “All these people… I’m gonna miss being able to just walk around in my robe.”

            “They won’t be here for long,” Cas tells him, “I’m sure there will be a few who may try and start a new life – here, where Michael exists only in The Cage.”

            “Wouldn’t blame ‘em if they did,” Dean chuckles, “Not like we haven’t faced down greater threats with less people…”

            Dean fiddles, playing with the chair’s arms, hoping that by scraping the leather with blunt nails he could dig up more to the conversation than the thoughts rumbling throughout his mind. Cas sits, waiting, watching Dean’s fidgeting. His body, unlike Dean’s, is closed in: knees pressed together, back slumped with his elbows resting on his thighs. Coiled tight, ready to spring forward if given the push.

            “And how’re the rest of ‘em?” Dean asks.

            “Sam decided to head to his room, after I promised to check up on you,” Cas starts, “And Mary… her and Bobby were chatting in the kitchen last I saw. When I asked about his lodgings she assured me that I needn’t worry.” Dean snaps his attention back to his angel, a small upward tic of his brow.

            “Did she?” he leans forward, “What did… what did she _say_?”

            “He can take my room,” Castiel quotes, squinting as he remembers, “I’ll even show him how to use the mattress.”

            Dean groans, face falling into his hands. “I had a feeling,” he mumbles from between his fingers, “That there was more than just _soldier loyalty_ holding her there.”

            “I don’t quite get what you mean?”

            “Please Cas, think,” Dean turns to him, “So I don’t have to explain it to you.” He sees the gears spinning behind the angel’s eyes and as they light up with understanding.

            “Oh,” he says, “They’re engaging in sex –“

            “Yes!” Dean shouts over him, wringing his hands, “Yes they’re doing – _that_. Now let’s refrain from ever _speaking_ about well… _that_ , ever again. Okay?” Cas’s nod lessens the embarrassment fluttering within his stomach by a fraction.

            “It’s not a bad thing, Dean,” he adds, “That place was dangerous… scary… it’s nice to see that your mother was able to find _some_ normalcy while she was there…”

            “Well… when you put it that way…”

            “It’s funny… the thing about danger,” Cas continues, gaze distant and far away, “When we’re in it, we have to re-prioritize… well, _everything_. Have to take control of the situation, make tough calls, and protect what matters. Being in this position for long periods of time… it can be taxing. Living like that without any breaks would force the strongest of people to crumble. We all need to feel safe from time to time.”

            Dean smiles, “Yeah… I get what you mean.” He does, darting his eyes across the room at the cocoon he built for himself and his family. Every few seconds they fall back to Cas, but they never linger. Admitting to certain safeties can unlock even more dangers, in Dean’s world.

            “I’m glad we’re out of there,” Dean says, “I don’t know how Ma did it… how any of ‘em… goes to show that even if you don’t think so – your grass is greener to _someone_.”

            “It was taxing, all that we went through… all that we _brought_ with us… what we left behind…” Cas’s shoulders hunch even further up to his neck, hands given way to human temptations such as twiddling and twitching.

            “I’m… sorry, we couldn’t get Gabe out of there,” Dean tells him, “I know how much Heaven needed him and… and just getting him back –“

            “It hurts,” Cas admits, staring at his lap, brows drawn in confusion, “Finally Gabriel chose to stay and fight and… I wish that he _had_ run away. Saved himself from…” He looks up, teary-eyed, “We had just gotten him back. He barely had any time between his imprisonment and his death. That world it just… it _takes_ from you.”

            “Yeah… no argument here,” Dean mutters darkly, “Almost took _Sam_ … Jack and Ma were over there for too long…” He sighs, “In a way we also lost you – or… _other_ you. Though I wasn’t as sad to see that bastard go.”

            “It was strange, I’ll admit,” Cas huffs, smiling weakly, “I remember a time where killing myself would have been a welcome thought. But even smiting this… _twisted_ version of me, although necessary, was depressing.”

            “Don’t joke about that, Cas,” Dean says, reaching across the divide to place a hand over his angel’s, “Watching that was tough for me, too. I mean… it was still _you_. Just a you without humanity… without –“

            “Without meeting you.”

            Dean pauses, cheeks heating under the searching stare. Cas locks eyes with him, like clear blue waves of a lake rocking forward to meet the grass dappled hills of its shore. Fingers tap against fingers, until Cas turns his palm over and slides them together.

            “Cas?”

            “You and Sam, I hope that the Apocalypse world was just an anomaly, and that you two exist on every other plane of existence,” Cas powers forward, squeezing tight, “Winchesters inspire hope… with _all_ of you the world remains safe. With… with _you_ … I feel safe.”

            “Cas…” Dean repeats, reverent, “I… You make me feel safe, too. Like, I don’t know…” He rips his gaze away, scratching at his neck with his free hand, “You look at me, sometimes, and I just feel like the whole world’s a bit brighter. S’why I call you sunshine…”

            “Dean…”

            “Yeah?”

            “What,” he swallows, nervously, shattering any illusion of angelic composure, “What are we?”

            “We’re…” the word hangs on his tongue, waiting for its partner before tumbling into reality. Except every descriptor Dean’s mind comes up with gets rejected, deemed not good enough. ‘Best Friends’ didn’t carry enough of the intent Dean wanted to show. ‘Brothers’ doesn’t feel right – not that it ever did. ‘Family’ was too vague, and just a cheap cop out.

            ‘ _What are we?_ ’

            He bides his time scanning his angel’s face. Roving over the sharp cheekbones blanketed by eternal stubble. Watches as a pink tongue peeks out to wet chapped – ‘ _but probably soft_ ’ – lips. Eyes that remind Dean of every motel with a pool they stayed in while growing up. He and Sammy would sneak in, at night, and swim to their heart’s content. Sometimes, not even leaving until the sun was rising over the buildings and their skin hurt from pruning. Pool time was an escape – freedom from expectations and a bleak tomorrow. Feelings he thought would only exist under highly chlorinated water but can be found easily in the warmth of the angel that’s always close but never enough.

            “We’re… we’re us,” Dean says, smiling, “The good and the bad… all of it. There’s no hiding… no putting up fronts… just two guys with,” he stumbles, “with… _feelings_.”

            “ _Feelings_?” Cas parrots, laughing slightly, “Yes… that is a good word for it. Although,” he rubs a thumb across Dean’s hand, “I might think of better words for it…” He looks up at him through his lashes, tanned skin flushed slightly. Dean roughly swallows around the heart-shaped lump in his throat.

            “Really?” he asks, “What – uh… what words would you use?”

            “Well, one word comes to mind, really,” Cas starts, fisting at his trench coat, “And I… I think you feel the same way.”

            “You’ll never know if you don’t say it, Cas,” Dean urges him on, scooting further and further towards the edge of his seat, ready to jump and fall – trusting Cas will be waiting there to catch him.

            “Dean, I… I lo –“

            “Father? Dean?”

            The moment shatters, lights flickering on overhead and drawing Dean and Cas’s eyes away from each other to the now open door where Jack stands. He shifts on his feet, glancing around at the Cave, taking it all in for the first time.

            “Jack?” Cas asks, voice rough, “Is every thing okay?”

            “I… I don’t know,” Jack steps further into the room, “It’s like… my mind knows I’m back home… but my body still feels tense like – like at any moment Michael will _find us_.”

            Dean frowns, understanding exactly what Jack is talking about. “C’mere,” he tells the kid, “You’re just…” he waits until Jack is in front of them, “you were over there for a long time – in a war zone. Even with all the power you have, you’re still just a boy. And no boy should _ever_ grow up as a soldier.” Cas squeezes Dean’s hand once more. “It’ll take time, but it’s _okay_  for you to feel this way.”

            “But I don’t want to,” Jack whimpers, “Is there… anything I can do?”

            “Angel grace can do many things,” Cas tells him, reaching out with his other hand for Jack’s, “But this is something we can’t heal.”

            “You’re not alone, though, Jack,” Dean continues, “We’re here, and we’ll always be here when you need us.”

            “I… I need you…” Jack admits, lowly, “I just… I want to be normal – for a little bit.”

            “Well, why don’t we watch a movie?” Dean asks, turning to Cas, “Can’t think of anything more normal than that? What do you say?”

            “I’m sure we can squeeze _one_ in,” Cas nods, smirking at Jack, “But only one. I believe it’s still a school night, and _somebody_ has to be up bright and early.”

            Dean chuckles, playing along with Cas’s scenario, “That’s true. Jack, did you finish your homework?”

            “I… my what?”

            “I don’t think he has,” Dean gasps, “Oh, how can we be such _thoughtless_ parents?”

            “You tell me, Dean,” Cas says, “You’re the one whose supposed to keep tabs on these things.”

            “Well I – wait, what?”

            “I mean, since you’re here keeping house –“

            “Why would I be the stay-at-home parent, Cas?”

            “You’re much more organized than me, and you love to cook –“

            “And you don’t think I deserve a career? Just what ‘ _job_ ’ do you even have?”

            “I’m a… _cop_?”

            “Oh macho, macho man, aren’t ya?”

            “Well –“ Cas trails off, both he and Dean glancing towards Jack, dissolved into a fit of giggles. The pair shares a celebratory smile before setting up the movie. Dean works the remote and turns Netflix on, scrolling until he finds something with enough fluff and sugar that would kill an elephant. Jack takes a seat on the floor between the two chairs, Cas shifting from his seat to join him. Dean looks at the two angels, their bright eyes blinking up at him. He puts up a fight, but joins the two on the ground in the end.

            “I’m too old for this,” Dean groans, over-acting, “My back’s gonna be so sore… you might have to leave me here.”

            “Well I might not need a nickel,” Cas starts, creeping a hand behind Jack to rest on Dean’s lower back, “But I do have ‘ _magic fingers_ ’. Dean relaxes into the touch, letting Cas’s grace trickle into him and ease the aches that have built up from their trek across universes. Dean swings his arm over the two of them, drawing them in closer, before hitting play.

            “Thank you,” Jack whispers under the title sequence, “Really.”

            “Everyone deserves to feel safe, Jack,” Cas tells him, looking at Dean, “Especially when they really _are_.”

            “I do feel safe with you,” he smiles, “Both of you. With Sam and Mary… I’m glad we’re all together again.”

            “The whole happy family,” Dean says.

            They let the movie take over, enjoying the film alongside one another. Jack snuggles deeper, sandwiching himself between the two men and drawing them closer. Every now and then, the hunter and his angel would peak over, losing interest with the cartoon and instead focusing their attention on the other.

            There was no rush. Both men finally felt a calm, like breaking the tape in a race, and were now running a celebratory lap. They didn’t feel the need to talk. Not when the movie finished up and Jack asked for another. Not when the boy fell asleep, slightly drooling on Dean’s shoulder, the day catching up to him. And especially not come morning, when all came to in a tight bundle.

            Because no word could capture the depth of emotion they were feeling.

            ‘ _Well, maybe one_ ,’ Dean admits to himself, peering at Cas over the rim of his coffee mug, while Jack tells Sam and Mary and Bobby about their little marathon.

            ‘ ** _Love_**.’

**Author's Note:**

> Did ya like? Did I make ya feel? Are you in your feelings right now? Let me know!
> 
> Drop a kudos, comment, or both below!!


End file.
